


Little Things

by orphan_account



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:12:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4737419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My last of the kiss prompts!</p>
<p>Hmm, if you're in the mood for writing fluff, Eiffel/Anyone for Upside-Down Kiss<br/>-straydog733</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [straydog733](https://archiveofourown.org/users/straydog733/gifts).



His first day on the station, Eiffel had just mostly been nervous, maybe a bit uncomfortable. It had taken a few weeks to get to know the rest of the crew, understand their habits and foibles, feel at home around them. It wasn’t until much later - at least day 50 - that Eiffel had started to feel something else. Something he hadn’t expected.

Lonely.

It wasn’t like he was actually ever _alone_. Hera was always there, and Hilbert could be relied on to be in his lab at all times of day and night, and Minkowski was certain to pop up whenever you least wanted her around. But Eiffel missed the little interactions. Touching someone’s hand as they gave you change. Bumping shoulders with someone on the subway. Kissing.

_Kissing._

Sometimes, as he drifted through the hallways of the Hephaestus Station, he liked to pretend that the distorted figures mirrored in the window were strangers. Not his own reflection, staring back at him from the convex glass, but someone else entirely. A blind man rushing to his law firm. A high school student looking for monsters in the dark. Or someone familiar. He tilted his head until his forehead touched the glass. Looking at the upside-down likeness of himself, he could almost see a face half-remembered from a drunken college party. A good night. He leaned in a little closer and let his lips brush the window, remembering.

Hera’s voice crackled over the loudspeaker. “Eiffel, _what_ are you doing?”


End file.
